Wanted You More
by s0merholic
Summary: Elena meets Damon on her first day of college. Despite an instant attraction, she could never quite get him to commit. Will they ever get together or will he always be the one who almost was? A story of unrequited love and heartache.
1. Chapter 1

**I hope there are still some people out there who care about this story; this is more of a rewrite than anything else. I've been working on this for a while now, on and off for about two years. I loved the idea of the story but not the writing itself and not the way the story turned out. Bearing in mind, this first chapter is short because I want to know if people care enough for me to keep posting but give it a read and let me know what you think.**

**I'm going to post a song at the beginning of each chapter that hopefully you'll give a listen to either before, during or after the chapters to set the tone although if I can find one individual who hasn't heard the instant classic below, I'll give you a medal. **

Ed Sheeran – Thinking Out Loud  
_People fall in love in mysterious ways,  
maybe it's all part of a plan._

"Are you stalking me?" the question caught me off guard and the three books I was clutching in my arms like the innocent fresher I was went flying. Great.  
"Oh for goodness sake!" I puffed, bending down to pick them up.  
"Allow me,"  
"Ok, who the hell do you-" my question was cut short when I caught sight of the gorgeous, dark-haired stranger staring intently at me with the bluest eyes in the entire world, holding my books in his hand. He grinned at my sudden pause.  
"Sorry," he smirked. "let me introduce myself. I'm Damon, Damon Salvatore."  
He held out his hand to me and I stared at it like it was an alien. Surely, he couldn't be serious?  
"I'm late," I mumbled, suddenly feeling very _very_ embarrassed under his curious gaze. Without waiting for an answer, I snatched my books out of his hand and flew down the corridor hoping to secure as much distance between me and the beautiful stranger as humanly possible.

"Late, huh? That's an unusual name."  
Oh _no_. Oh NO. I looked up from my desk to see those all-too familiar blue eyes looking at me. Oh my god, oh _my _god. Of course, he was on my course… of _course _he was.  
Inwardly taking a deep breath, "Elena," I had attempted to find out my voice but it came out of more of a strangled cry. Clearing my throat I tried again, "my name is Elena."  
Damon looked to be enjoying my misery and cocked his head to the side. "I know. You're were in my 9 o'clock."  
Ugh, of course, everyone who does the law degree had to take the same three compulsory classes. He must have remembered me saying my name at registration.  
As if he'd just read my mind: "I remembered you saying your name at registration"  
"Oh." I didn't really know where to go with that. "Ok."  
"So…" He was hovering. "May I sit?"  
"Sure." 

_ September 18__th__ 2012_

_Dear diary,_

_I met a boy today._

_He's unlike anyone else I've ever met before. I think I'm falling for him._

_The only problem is, I don't think he's a relationship type of guy. _

_He might hurt me._

_But it might be worth it._

_I guess there's only one way to find out._

_E x_

Might be worth it. Famous last words.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Deana Carter – Strawberry Wine  
_My first taste of love, oh bittersweet.  
The green on the vine,  
like strawberry wine._

Being friends with Damon Salvatore was like being friends with Taylor Swift; he had a 'squad' for _everything_. He had a going-out squad, a study squad, a work squad… and me. I wasn't quite sure where I fit in Damon's squad but let's just say if we were still using the Swift analogy, I was his Selena Gomez. He was my best friend even if we didn't spend every waking moment together. Not that we could have spent every waking moment together anyway, Damon was _always _busy. Like you had to plan nights in advance with him, there was no such thing as 'chill nights' unless he initiated them. Seriously, I texted him one Monday night asking about a tutorial question and he said he'd text me back when he was home. I texted him at 4.30, he replied with the answer to the question at 2 in the morning. Sometimes it was cool though; he'd often just show up at my house at 11 at night to watch a movie or we'd go a drive and get food. Sometimes he'd come to mines after nights out because he didn't like to be alone but that only ever happened twice. Because Damon was almost never alone.

Which brings me to the problem. Damon was a total player, he was the kind of guy who was always texting several girl at the one time, or who could message someone past midnight asking them to come round, and they did. Yet, Damon wasn't often described as a 'dick'. Even though he was, and I told him every day. He always brushed it off and said the girls knew the set-up when they started talking to him. He doesn't _do _relationships. I was always too afraid to ask what he meant by that. If he meant that for _all _girls or if I would be an exception. But that thought process led me down a dark path where I considered the question of Damon having feelings for me. And the obvious answer that he didn't. And even if he did, it wouldn't matter. Damon Salvatore didn't do relationships.

Deep down, I knew that my friendship with Damon was toxic. I mean, you shouldn't want to kiss your best friend. You shouldn't lie awake till 3 in the morning when you know he's out in the hopes he'll drunk dial you. You shouldn't cry because he only thinks about you sometimes and you think about him all the time.

_October 10__th__ 2012_

_Dear diary,_

_He floods my thoughts every second of everyday._

_I don't know how to swim;_

_But that's okay._

_E x_

Of course, Damon never treated me as he treated those other girls. Sure there was suggestive jokes, endless flirting and – when he'd had one too many – he got a bit too touchy-feely but that was just Damon. Damon was a flirt, a chancer but ultimately, Damon was a friend, _just _a friend. And that was okay because he was my friend, in fact, he was my best friend and not that I ever truly got over the wonder of Damon Salvatore, I did begin to accept that he would never be mines.

Still, that didn't mean we didn't have fun together and I couldn't enjoy his company. Damon and I had loads of laughs and I really enjoyed his company. We both had passion for different things – he loved football and I loved Taylor Swift. He liked nightclubs, I liked bars. He liked getting his eyebrows waxed, I pretended I didn't know the reason they always looked so damn perfect. So, yes, we had our differences but they were nothing in the face of everything we both loved. Damon and I were obsessed with Mexican food, we both hoped to specialise in some form of Commercial Law and live a life like Harvey Spector and Jessica Pearson, we appreciated Western Country for all its glory. What I loved most about Damon and I's relationship, though, was our deep appreciation of old movies. I'd never met someone before who loved the film industry as much as I did. So many days spent watching different decades of films and appreciating their glory; we bonded over our love of Dr Caligari but found that our tastes were so similar; I had never met anyone else who appreciated Tod Browning's 'Freaks' or openly discussed Leo McCarey's hilarious masterpiece 'Duck Soup'. But Damon did. My favourite day to date is the day we discovered a cinema was showing Hitchcock movies back to back and spent an afternoon watching and discussing Rear Window, Psycho and The Birds. It was followed by dinner at a cute and secluded café where we ended up befriending the owners. We spent hours sitting there that night all talking old movies, music genres and life in general. The owners were an elderly couple called Elle and Sam and I still visit them any time I'm in the neighbourhood. So does Damon. When we eventually left the café that night it was just after 11.30 but we both agreed it had been such a successful day and we didn't want it to end. Damon came back to my house and we drank wine, played corny board games like _Cluedo _and _Guess Who _and finally, we both fell asleep in my bed. Nothing happened nor did I want anything to. It was a perfect day with a perfect ending. When I woke up the next morning, Damon was gone. He'd left a note:

_Gone to the gym. D x_

It was the first of the many notes Damon was to write to me. I kept every single one.

I think one of the main issues with Damon and I's friendship was my insecurity. I couldn't understand what Damon's obsession was with me. Why had Damon been so obsessed with me when we first met? I had been shy, reserved and, to put it frankly, a bitch. I didn't want to befriend Damon initially, I thought he was way too cool for a girl like me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a complete introvert and I like going out but not in the same league as Damon. Damon could not sit still. He even paced when he studied (you can imagine how annoying trying to study with him is). He constantly had to be productive. It was an attractive quality but it was the complete opposite of me. I liked to lounge about all day watching re-runs of Gossip Girl and eating. A typical morning for Damon consisted of getting up between 730 and 8, going to the gym for an hour (two on weekends) then either going to work, uni or another creative activity. It was a miracle I got him to sit through three movies with me. He said it was because he wanted to see me and he couldn't convince me to go paint-balling so this was the next best option. Days like that, spent just Damon and I were special. He had a way of making you feel so important; he put you on a pedestal and you wanted to strive to meet his expectations. However, the quality that made Damon special was also what made him toxic. I spent so much of my time trying to impress him that I lost a part of myself, a part of myself I don't think I'll ever get back.

_October 26__th__ 2012_

_Dear diary,_

_My relationship with Damon scares me and I don't think I should be feeling emotions this deep when I'm still so young. I just want to be with him all the time.  
I don't know what I'd do if he ever found out how I feel about him,  
But sometimes, when I catch him looking at me, I wonder if maybe it's worth the risk._

_E x _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Gloriana – (Kissed You) Goodnight  
_I should have kissed you,  
I should have pushed you up against the wall.  
I should have kissed you,  
Just like I wasn't scared at all._

The end of the first semester came around before I knew it and my infatuation with Damon had spiralled out of control. I knew I had to find a way to control it so I did what I thought would help and I started dating. The only person I made a real connection with was a boy called Tyler Lockwood who was a second year. Things got serious quite quickly; Tyler was very intense. He introduced me to his parents within a few weeks and by the end of November, he was staying over most of the time. I liked Tyler, he made me laugh and he was very alpha-male which I found very attractive. He was doing a Sports Management degree and played on several sports teams at the University. His parents were sweet though his mum was extremely high maintenance; it was all well and good being a Law student at one of the best universities in the country but the fact I didn't live in the same postal code as her was a real road blocker. She seemed to think my upbringing was a reflection of my intelligence; often defining words she used as if I wasn't second in my class and her son wasn't scraping by with D's.

Regardless, Tyler's mum's attitude didn't bother me; the only thing it did was make me less inclined to hang about at his house. I wasn't with Tyler for his parent's status, his wealth or any other factor; I simply enjoyed Tyler's company. Yet, despite spending almost all waking hours together, Tyler was insanely jealous. Mostly of Damon. He hated the fact that my best friend was a notorious playboy and he had a serious problem with Damon staying at my house after nights out. He thought it was strange that we'd never slept together and didn't believe for a second our relationship was completely platonic. He even tried to trick Damon one day into admitting something had happened between us on a night out, pretending I'd told him we had. Naturally, Damon denied all knowledge of this and Tyler and I had our first fight.

Things got better after that and by the time December 18th came around – the last day of the semester – I was really looking forward to spending Christmas together. He left over New Year's to spend time with his family up North but we'd arranged a date night on Christmas Eve to exchange gifts. I knew Tyler thought this would also be the night we finally had sex but truthfully I wasn't ready for that yet – I'd had sex before; I wasn't a prude but I just didn't feel like it was the right time for us yet. Truthfully, I didn't know when would be but I wasn't going to force myself into something I wasn't ready for. Instead, I got him a jumper, four beers and a gag gift which was an Urban Outfiters book of 100 sex positions which I thought was going to make his eyes pop out of his head. I figured that even though I wasn't ready, I could still tease him a little. He gave me a copy of Fitzgerald's _Tender is the Night _because of how much I loved _Gatsby_, a necklace from Topshop that I'm assuming one of his sister's picked out and a framed picture of us. It was cute, really cute; when it was time for him to go, I could feel myself welling up because I knew I wouldn't get to see him again until the New Year.

I spent actual Christmas lying about the house all morning waiting for all my extended family to come over in the evening. When they came, the first few hours were good until my auntie had too much to drink and started blubbering about her life problems and my granny fell asleep on the sofa nursing her gin. When my phone rang, I nearly cried with relief at the opportunity to escape. I never even realised it was Damon until I heard his voice.

"Elena?"  
"Oh. Damon? Hi." My voice was immediately on edge. Damon and I hadn't stopped talking since Tyler and I had started seeing each other but there was a weird barrier that had formed between us that had never existed before.  
"Sorry, I know it's Christmas but I wanted to give you your present."  
"Okaaaay?" I was so confused as to why he was phoning me at one in the morning to tell me this.  
"I'm outside, come out and talk to me."  
_Outside? _"Outside? Where?"  
"Outside your house. I can see your parents dancing in the living room."  
_What? _I ducked back into the living room and saw that, indeed, my parents were dancing to Eric Clapton.  
"And now I can see you," he continued.  
I look up and could just about make out a figure at the bottom of my garden.  
"Be right there."

Walking out to Damon, I could feel my knees knocking together. I had butterflies in my stomach, anticipation building up. I didn't know why but I had a weird feeling that everything was about to change.  
"Hi," I called out as I approached. He was holding two large carrier bags. "What's in the bags?"  
"This one," he said dropping the second bag. "is filled with my back-up gift – Vodka."  
"Always a winner," I smiled. "And the other one?"  
"So pushy," he smirked dropping down onto the ground. It was only then I realised how drunk he was; he was; he was wearing a thin jumper, a pair of shorts and trainers. "Damon, where are your clothes?"  
"Oh no," He sighed dramatically "Have I come out naked again?"  
I rolled my eyes. This was so typical of him.  
"Oh no wait," he continued, tugging at his jumper "I _am _wearing clothes! Thank goodness. That could have been embarrassing."  
"You know what I mean." I deadpanned.  
"Sit down," he locked eyes with me for what seemed like an eternity and the air went silent. The ground was soaking and my dress was brand new but in that moment, it wasn't even an option to say no. I dropped down beside him.  
He pulled out my 'gift' – the vodka which I noticed already had some liquid taken out of it and took a swig before offering it to me. I studied him at the hand over and couldn't help but notice his bloodshot eyes. I'd thought earlier it was the alcohol but now I could see it was from tears; his hair I noticed was sticking up at all angles instead of the messy polished look he usually had going on and his natural charisma that usually oozed out of him was noticeably absent.

"What's wrong?" I finally broke the silence and the tension grew to unspeakable levels.  
He grew defensive. "Why do you think somethings wrong?"  
"Because I know you, Damon. Tell me, what's wrong?"  
"I can't,"  
"Damon."  
"No, I can't. I can't say it out loud. Here." He thrust the other bag at me and I couldn't help but notice his hands were shaking.  
"What's this?"  
"It's for you."  
"Hold on, I'll get your present the now."  
"It's fine - later. Look I have to go."  
"Okay," I was befuddled, two minutes ago we were drinking vodka in the middle of my garden and now it was like someone had jabbed him with a red hot poker. "I guess I'll talk to you later."  
"If you still want to."  
"What do you—"  
"Just, just…" He stumbled over his words a bit before finally giving up on his sentence. Instead, he leaned over and pulled me into a bear hug. "I'm sorry but I have to go." His words felt like parting words.  
"Okay."  
With that he disappeared, leaving me feeling cold and confused.

I waited until I was in my bedroom, wrapped up in a blanket, until I opened the bag. My stomach was churning with anticipation. Deep down, I kind of knew there was only one explanation for all of this.

Inside the bag was small jewellery box. And inside that was a necklace, a beautiful necklace, a beautiful silver necklace that looked like it would have cost an absolute bomb. It was a pendant-style that fell just below my jugular, on the back it was engraved, _D x. _I could feel my eyes welling. There was more, inside there was an envelope with my name. I assumed it would just be a Christmas card however when I opened it, I found a note instead.

_Elena,_

_I'm sorry.  
I suppose that's the best way to start this letter because you have a boyfriend, and you're too good for me and I might just ruin everything but __the way I feel about you is wrong.__ What I mean is, I can't keep pretending you're only my friend and nothing more. I have friends, I have lots of friends but you're a special friend. And I can't sit and watch you with Tyler because when I see you together it takes everything inside of me not to punch his stupid face in because he doesn't treat you like he should.  
If you don't feel the same, I'm sorry and I hope this doesn't ruin everything.  
D x_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Lady Antebellum – Wanted You More  
_I guess I wanted you more  
And looking back, now I'm sure;  
I wanted you more._

The problem Damon and I always had was timing. Timing is everything. When he wanted me, I was too afraid and when I was ready, he wasn't. When he gave me that note, I freaked out a little bit. I don't know why. Maybe it was just the realisation that I was so close to being happy and to having everything I wanted, and there didn't seem to be a downside. I had never experienced that kind of happiness before and I was certain there had to be a loop hole because there was _no way_ I could have it all. I started to overanalyse everything; every look Damon had ever given me, his reaction when I started going out with Tyler, every little touch and detail. That's the problem with having an anxious mind, even when everything is going exactly how you want it, you are constantly waiting for the other penny to drop, constantly waiting for the bad.

I had a decision to make: embrace Damon and happiness and love or ignore it because I didn't know the catch. I didn't have a choice; I chose the latter. When Tyler returned, I folded up the love note Damon had given me and placed it in my box of special things, hid it in the very back of my wardrobe and pretended he had never given it to me.

The problem arose at the end of January when I had to start back uni and see him again. I knew I couldn't avoid him, he was my best friend. But I also knew I couldn't be near him and know what I knew and felt how I did and not do anything about it. That first morning back I would never admit to anyone else that I got up an hour earlier than normal so I could put more effort into my appearance. I wore my hair curled like he liked it, I wore red lipstick because he said I looked badass wearing it and my favourite pair of blue jeans. I was nervous the full build-up to seeing him that day - I thought he would make things more awkward because I'd been ignoring him for 6 weeks but when I saw him – at the most awkward time when I was with Tyler - he smiled at me and came over immediately.

He enveloped me into a huge bear hug, catching me off guard. I think he sniffed my hair as well. "Elena, how are you?"  
"Umm… good?" I was so freaked out by the situation I couldn't even hug him back, my arms were stuck to my side. "You?"  
He gave me a look that told me nothing had changed since that letter and completely ignored the question, turning towards Tyler instead. "Alright man! How was your break?"  
Now I know for a fact Damon doesn't like Tyler and Tyler knows that Damon doesn't like him and Tyler _hates_ Damon so as could only be imagined, the conversation was awkward. It was a conversation that didn't need to happen yet Damon persisted on chatting away talking about ridiculous things, telling us elaborate stories from Christmas break, all the while never quite meeting my eyes. When Tyler had to leave to go to his lecture, Damon and I walked in silence to our own. He stopped just outside the room, one hand on the door and turned to me.  
"I missed you," he sighed. "But I can't keep acting like I'm just your friend." Then he turned and walked quickly into the room and I took that as my cue to sit somewhere else.

He didn't wait on me after class and I didn't expect him to. That night I went home with a head full of unanswered questions. Damon was still into me that was obvious. But how much? And how much did I like him? Enough to throw away Tyler and I's relationship? Granted, it was never going to last and both of us knew that but it didn't mean it had to be over, yet. I knew I could eventually grow to love Tyler and I knew I would be sad without him in my life but the idea of being with Damon in a romantic sense excited me to the point that I was lying in bed imagining different scenarios of us in a relationship. Holding hands at the zoo. Kissing in the cinema. Lying in bed watching Netflix on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Granted none of these things would ever happen since 1) I was actively against keeping animals in cages, 2) I cringe at public displays of affection and 3) I worked almost every single Sunday, but the thought was there. And it was enough. I knew what I had to do.

The next day I ended things with Tyler and it wasn't easy. I felt my termination of the relationship had come out of nowhere so I knew I owed him a real explanation. So I told him about Christmas and Damon coming by my house and Damon's letter to me. As soon as I told him, I knew I'd made a mistake. He started accusing me of cheating on him, sleeping with Damon. He called me a slut, a slag and the next day at uni, he punched Damon. I had skipped uni that day on account of the break-up and not wanting to see Tyler so I hadn't been able to give Damon any warning. According to a story at a later date Damon didn't defend himself and let Tyler punch him twice before someone stepped in. He said he thought he deserved it.

The next day I waited on him before the lecture but by the time it was due to start he hadn't showed up so I had to go in. He arrived 5 minutes later with a black eye. I saw his eyes scan the room before he sat down and I hoped – I prayed – he was looking for me. After the hour, he bolted out the room. I was disappointed; I wanted to speak to him and apologise for Tyler's actions and couldn't understand why he'd moved so fast. However, when I left the lecture theatre, I saw him standing at the door, staring at every person who came out. When I trailed out, his face lit up. "Thank God!" He exclaimed. "I thought you'd somehow snuck out without me noticing."

"So, what happened with you and Tyler?" He asked innocently whilst sipping his cappuccino. Pretentious university students such as ourselves were cappuccino drinkers.  
I rolled my eyes. "Like you actually care." But I was smiling.  
"I do care." He matched my smile. "Well, I care if it was because of me."  
I couldn't look him in the eyes but I wanted to tell him the truth. "Yes, it was because of you."  
He paused for a second and when I glanced up, I could see him stirring his coffee with the biggest smile on his face. He glanced up and caught me staring, "Good. I was beginning to think you didn't like me. You know, when you didn't call me or respond to my text's."  
"I just needed to sort my head out." I admitted. "But it was horrible. You caught me off guard, Ty wasn't here. It was a confusing time. "  
He nodded. "I'm sorry. It was shitty of me to spring a note on you but I knew what I wanted to say and I knew saying it aloud wouldn't sound the same."  
"It's ok. I'm glad you didn't say it aloud, I wouldn't know what to say back. Besides," I smiled. "this way, I can keep your words forever."  
There was a brief silence of us just staring at each other, basking in each other's presence. Then a wave of guilt rolled over me and I knew he sensed it too.  
"Damon, I don't think it's right for us to dive into this straight away. Tyler and I only broke up yesterday and even though I've liked you for a while now, I don't want him to think I was cheating on him or anything."  
"Understood." He agreed. "So we'll take things slow, play it on the down low, keep it casual."  
Funny thing, the phrase _keep it casual_. I thought he meant we'd keep it casual for a few weeks, we'd act like we were still just friends to others but to each other we'd be mutually exclusive. Basically, I figured that we were in a relationship but the rest of the world didn't know yet. Damon thought by casual, we _were _just friends. Friends with added benefits. And he didn't get the memo on my level of commitment. Because he was still sleeping with other girls.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Taylor Swift – I'd Lie  
_He'll never fall in love, he swears as he runs his fingers through his hair.  
I'm laughing 'cause I hope he's wrong._

_February 17__th__ 2013_

_Dear diary,_

_Damon is driving me crazy. Whenever he is with me, he consumes my every thought and whenever he's not, I wonder what he's doing. I heard a rumour that he's been seeing other girls; I mean it's not as if we made our relationship exclusive but I can't see him cheating on me; Damon's a good guy. Still, maybe I should ask him about it. I just don't want him to think I'm a psycho._

_E x_

"So what's up with you and Damon Salvatore?" A girl, Isobel, in my tutorial asked me after class. I was a little caught off guard since Damon had actually just texted me asking if I wanted to hang out tonight.  
"Umm, what?"  
"You and Damon Salvatore?"  
"Um nothing?" The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. I don't know why I lied; maybe because it wasn't any of her business, maybe because I didn't want anyone to think I had moved on so quickly from Tyler, or maybe, just maybe, it was because I'd already heard the rumours and didn't want to look like a mug. I'd been seeing Damon for six weeks now and it had been bliss – until he went on nights out. That's when the paranoia crept in, that's when I started hearing stories about his extra-curriculum activities. I was afraid to confront him on it and terrified of the answer so I just put it to the back of my head, just feeling lucky whenever I was in his company and appreciating every second. But I didn't tell any of this to Isobel, instead I just looked at her waiting for an explanation to her question.  
"Really?" She smirked and I knew that wasn't the end of it.  
"Really." I tried to turn away but her next words froze me in place.  
"Ok, good. That's what Damon says too."  
I turned around slowly. "What does he say exactly?"  
"That nothing's going on. That's what he told Vicky on Saturday when they went home together. She asked if you were a thing because you are together all the time and he said no you're just friends."  
The words felt like acid to my ears, how could he do this to me? After everything that had happened between us, how could he tell people we were nothing more than 'friends', like he was comparing me to one of the guys, like I was no-one special.

I tried to maintain a cool exterior to prevent Isobel from accumulating any more gossip from our two minute exchange but I knew my lack of reaction had given everything away. Instead of answering her I started to turn away from her but she was persistent.  
"Is that right then yeah? You and Damon are 'just friends'" She put air quotes around the words as if she already knew what the phrase meant. That 'just friends' was another way of saying Damon used and abused me whenever he felt like, whenever it was convenient.  
"YES." I was exasperated and I could feel myself seconds away from tears. "We're just friends. Ok?"  
"Ok." But she was smiling and I knew it was game over.

That night I lay on my bed and cried. Cried about how stupid I could have been; cried because I was so sure that I was in control of Damon and I's 'thing' when in reality, I was so out of my depth and the one person who could save me was the same person who had abandoned me there in the first place. I knew Damon was attracted to me and I knew Damon loved me as a person but I hadn't realised the two things weren't interconnected. He wanted me for sex but he also wanted me to be his friend. And I convinced myself I was okay with that because I didn't want to face reality. Having a crush seems like a beautiful thing. You think about this person often, you daydream about them sometimes, you're happy when they send you a text during the day. But then you start to think about them all the time. You can't focus on anything. You picture different scenarios with you two together and it hurts a little when you understand that it's not reality. So having a crush may sound like a beautiful things before you realise you didn't stand a chance. If all I wanted from Damon was a physical relationship, we would have been perfect but I couldn't be okay with that. I couldn't kiss Damon after I knew he'd been with another girl and I couldn't pretend like the other girls didn't exist.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to end things with him and as a result, I made a real fool out of myself. I tried to force him to commit; invite him over on the weekdays, make sure I ended up at the same bars as him on nights out, introduced him to my parents, all small things that I hoped would make him see me as a girlfriend. Yet, it was the label of 'boyfriend' that he couldn't handle. If anyone asked him if he was my boyfriend, he'd shrug and brush it off. _Elena's not like that_, he'd insist, _she doesn't want a commitment. _The problem was I did. I wanted that commitment more than anything in the world, I wanted to tell the world that Damon Salvatore was my boyfriend and I wanted him to embrace it, to be proud. But he didn't and I couldn't figure out why. After all, _he _was the one who told me he liked me, _he _was the one who had written that letter and _he _was the reason I'd finally stopped denying that my feelings for him were true. Why? Why did he do that if he didn't want a relationship; was it just the alcohol talking, did he not really feel that way? Was it just the holiday's, they made him feel lonely? W h y was he doing this to me?

It took me a while to accept the real reason: sex. Everything in a 20 year old man's life revolved around sex. Damon had told me he liked me because he wanted to get into my pants. Clear and simple.

When I realised that, everything got so much worse. My paranoia got the better of me; I'd loved this boy for so long in secret and now that it was out there for everyone to see and he'd rejected it, it cut me so deeply. The problem was Damon's different personalities; if he had screwed me and then ditched me, it probably would have been easier to accept. But that's not what he did, instead he developed two personas; the amazing, romantic boyfriend who wooed me with flowers and chocolates and jewellery. The boy who kissed me like he was afraid to lose me and bought me a bracelet to match my necklace that he'd had engraved with his initials so that I'd always have him with me. The boy who introduced me to his grandma and held my hand like he was never letting go. That was _my _Damon; that was the Damon I always prayed for. The other Damon was a jackass. Whenever we socialised with people we knew, it was as if he became Mr Hyde; he ignored me, he looked right through me, he showed me absolutely no affection. Whenever I asked him why he'd act as if he didn't know what I was talking about.

The final straw came when I actually saw him kissing another girl in front of me.

I hit the roof.

"YOU DICK. YOU ABSOLUTE DICK." I screamed, throwing myself at him in the middle of the club. "What do you think you're doing?"

Damon looked at me like he didn't recognise me. "Elena, calm down."

"Calm down? Calm fucking down? You're cheating on me right in front of me!"

The girl he was kissing stopped looking at me like I was crazy and turned to him. "You've got a fucking girlfriend?"

"No." It came out as if he was repulsed at the thought.

"You're a dick." She hissed before turning to me. "I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have done it if I knew"

I love girl code.

Damon turned to me, fury in his eyes. "Let's go outside."

"Elena, you can't do that." He was leaning against a wall around the corner in the club and he looked pissed as hell.

I was infuriated. "I can't do what? Get mad at you for kissing other girls?"

"Exactly. We're not going out."

I could feel tears threatening to spill over because I'd known this for so long but I'd never heard him say the words aloud. "Then what are we Damon? Because this-" I gestured towards the bracelet. "says one thing and here you are saying another."

"Well listen to _me_, don't invent things based on jewellery I've gave you. WE ARE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP."

I started crying then, I couldn't help it. "You told me you liked me, on Christmas day. You wrote me a letter."

"I want you, Elena. I will never deny that. You are hot as hell and when I first met you, you completely friend-zoned me."

"So it was just about sex?" My voice cracked and he looked disheartened for a minute, as if he hadn't thought about it that way either.

"I love you, Elena. You're my best friend but you're not my girlfriend. You never have been, you never will be."

"You gave me this," I whimpered, limply holding up the bracelet. My arm was shaking.

"Yes, I gave you that because you _are_ special to me. I don't see you the way I see the other girls I sleep with, that's true. But that doesn't mean I want to be your boyfriend, or your anything. I'm fucking twenty years old. I want to be out enjoying my life, not sitting at home every night watching re-runs of _Friends_."

More tears. "But I love you."

He jumped back 10 feet as if he had been set on fire. "Elena, go home. You're a mess. Just go home, okay?"

Back then I thought that was the worst night of my life. I had hit rock bottom and things simply couldn't get worse than they were. I thought everything had to get better. I didn't realise that instead of rock bottom, I had simply hit a large stone that stopped me from dropping further and beneath that stone, I had a long descent down to the bottom. I hadn't hit rock bottom, not even close.


	6. Chapter 6

**NB: This chapter is super short and just a lead in to the bigger plot of the story. Also to the reviewer who asked if this was a rewrite of the original story, it works around a similar premise but with a different outcome. **

**Chapter 6**

Kate Nash – We Get On  
_And my friends were like "whatever, you'll find someone better. His eyes were way too close together and we never even liked him from the start. And now he's with that tart."_

_ April 12__th__ 2013  
Dear diary,_

_I met a boy that made all of the stars in the sky seem dull and galaxies turned into whirlpools of him and when he left the stars were still dull and he took the galaxies with him.  
I don't know how I'm ever going to forget about him._

_E_

Damon Salvatore doesn't do relationships. Damon Salvatore doesn't do romance. Damon Salvatore doesn't fucking do love. He'd made that very clear when he'd humiliated me in the club that night and I'd humiliated myself when he'd phoned me a few nights later and I'd went over to his. I was a joke; I was addicted to a drug called Damon and there was no cure, no therapy, no escape. I became the thing I promised myself I'd never be – needy. And if there is one thing Damon Salvatore definitely doesn't _do_, it's needy girls.

I couldn't help it. I just wanted Damon to love me as much as I loved him; I'd built up a fantasy in my head of how we should be and the reality could not have been further from the truth. He rejected me time and time again, each time killing a part of me until finally I was just an empty shell of insecurities.

I tried to me the girl he wanted me to be, oh I tried. I wanted to be _Cool Girl – _the one who drinks beer and smokes pot and plays video games and doesn't call you at 2am because you're still out and she's worried where you might be. I wanted him to be proud of me, I wanted him to introduce me to his friends as his girlfriend Elena and I wanted him to be as crazy about me as I was to him. He wasn't, and it fucking killed me. All I wanted was to be the girl that changed Damon Salvatore, the girl who he would give hoodies to wear and cuddle up next to when it's cold. I wanted him to come up behind me, wrap his arms around my waist and whisper "you look beautiful" into my ear. He never did and the most I ever got from him was a t-shirt that he had to give me because he ripped mines trying to get it off. He asked that I washed and return it.

I just didn't understand what I had done wrong, how this could be the same boy who had hand-wrote me a note professing his feelings for me and the same boy who had been my best friend for six months. He was nothing like either of those people anymore; he was cruel, sadistic, he made me feel like I was worthless. Damon stole everything from me and I still couldn't bring myself to do anything except love him.

But I guess that's the lesson of life, isn't it? It gives us one person who both, shows us that true love exists and that fairy tales don't.

I think the worst thing is that I know Damon wanted to be with me but in the weeks it took me to embrace his love for me, he got scared. He was afraid that I would hurt him. So he hurt me instead.


	7. Chapter 7

**NB: Thanks for your kind reviews. I hope to update at least one more time within the next week or so because after that I'm going to Europe to travel for the summer and won't have my laptop to update.  
To the reviewer who asked about my other story, maybe one day I will finish it but I have no inspiration. Feel free to leave ideas about a general direction to go in but right now I'm so over that story and haven't thought about it in a few years so an update soon is extremely unlikely. **

**Chapter 7**

Blake Shelton &amp; Gwen Stefani – Go Ahead and Break My Heart  
_You know I'm broken, I don't trust anyone;  
Last thing I needed was to fall in love.  
You got me dreaming got me thinking I got some hope,  
there is nobody and someone to get to know,  
but I'm so scared I don't know what to do.  
How did you get me so into you?_

_April 25__th__ 2013._

_Dear diary,_

_I need to see him. I have to see him. _

_E x_

Tuesday. 9.26 p.m. Target has been spotted in vehicle with unidentified female.

And I have gone completely bonkers.

Look at me. What would my pre-Damon self make of me if she knew that at nineteen years of age, I was crouched behind an elderly lady's bin outside my not-even-ex's parents' house waiting for him to come home from a date I only found out is happening because I guessed his Facebook password? (damonsalvatore123, _really_Damon, _really_?)

And yet, I couldn't seem to stop myself. Thoughts of him had consumed me to the point that if I didn't see him, I was afraid of what I might do. Knowing his Facebook password just made things worse – every little minor detail that happened in Damon's life, I knew about it. He'd wasted all his money on nights out and couldn't afford his rent for the upcoming month so had been forced to move back in with his parents. He'd been talking to loads of other girls via private messenger and had told his best friend Alaric that he'd created a Tinder profile which had guaranteed him sex whenever he wanted it. In a moment of desperation, I'd typed my name into the search bar of his messages to see if he'd ever spoken about me to anyone. The only thing I found, except messages before things got messy was to some random girl who he'd appeared to have met on a night out:

_Have you had a girlfriend before? Xx_

_Not per say x_

_Huh? X_

_I had a thing with this girl, Elena, but it didn't work out. She got too clingy. I don't do clingy. Let's not talk about it xx_

_Oh, ok. Lol. I'm not clingy, just to let you know babe xxx_

And that was that. No more conversation. We were best friends for months and now all I am now is some crazy girl who got a bit too clingy. Of course, I wasn't helping matters now hiding in his neighbour's garden waiting for him to come home but as long as he didn't see me, it would be fine. Right?

Saying that, I don't know what I hoped to accomplish out of this. No matter the outcome, I'll end up being hurt. If he gives her a goodnight kiss, I'll be completely devastated but if he sends her on her way and goes into the house alone, it'll fill me with hope and that is perhaps far more dangerous for my emotions than any chaste kiss would ever be.

Finally, after what feels like three years, Damon's taxi door swings open and he steps out, his usual picture of perfection. Alone. I sigh in relief. But it's not over yet. Before closing the door, he ducks his head back inside. It's dark but I've been outside for the past hour, my eyes have adjusted. He says something and I see her face light up in response, she leans in to kiss him but he changes it to cheek. Still, she doesn't seem disappointed. The taxi door is slammed shut and it drives away, followed by Damon's lingering gaze. My head is swarming with ideas. What does this mean? He didn't want to kiss her, or he didn't think he could control himself if he did? He stared after the taxi – was he just making sure she was safe, was he stuck in a daydream or was he lingering there, engulfing the remainder of her scent? Every thought consumed me all at once, making my head spin. I needed to get out of there. I needed to think. And I couldn't do that behind a smelly bin with a pissed-off cat who was arching her back at me with the overpowering stench of outdated chicken that was making me want to gag. Slowly, I retreated backwards keeping one eye on Damon at all times. He strolled to the door almost giddily, a slight stagger in his step making me think he'd had more than one beer tonight. Hope engulfed me, thinking maybe alcohol would dull his senses to any more movements I made.

It didn't. I step on the gravel in the neighbour's garden and the deep crunching noise in the silence of the night causes his head to instantly whip around. I am a deer in headlights.

"Elena?" He is squinting in my direction but we have yet to make eye contact. I think fast.

"No," I call, trying to make my voice sound as high-pitched as possible. "It's Melanie, your neighbour." His neighbour was 62 years old with short blonde hair and a walking stick. I know that, not because he told me, but because once, a few weeks back, she'd came out of her house to ask me why I'd been sitting parked outside Damon's house for an hour. My answer was, of course, he hadn't replied to my texts and I wanted to make sure he was okay but he wasn't home so I was waiting for him. She'd gave me an almost pitiful gaze and moments later, had appeared with tea in a flask.

"Elena, I know it's you. I recognise your jacket." Damn it! Curse you black coat that I wear absolutely everywhere. I sigh, my face heating up as I make my way towards him. The only thing I have now is fifteen seconds to come up with an amazing excuse for why I'm camped out in his neighbour's garden.

Of course, me being me, I try to be smooth and slide between the two bins that lead to his garden and I trip over the stupid cat – who hisses at me like it's _my_fault – and fall flat on my face into the soil. Mother Nature is certainly not my friend today. With my face in the dirt, I make an executive decision that I'm never going to move again. Here, in my little mud garden, no one could see my beetroot face or the tears threatening my eyes. They could not see my failed attempt to spy on Damon or the pathetic loser I had become. Yes, I liked this patch of soil very, very much. Unfortunately, Damon did not.

"Elena, are you okay?" I could feel his footsteps vibrate on the ground as he ran over to me.

I pushed myself up onto my knees. "I'm terrific, can't you tell?"

He crouched down and looked at me, giving me a once over, before bursting out laughing. "You're an idiot." He rolled his eyes and wiped dirt from my cheeks and mouth.

"Understatement of the century."

"Why are you here, 'Lena?" he whispered, pushing back the hair that had glued to my face with a brown and sticky paste.

I sighed, the time for secrecy was gone. The only way I would ever get him back, or even get him to remotely understand that I wasn't simply a crazy person, was to lay all of my cards on the table and pray didn't hate me. "Because I love you, because I can't stand to see you with anyone else but me, because even though I know it won't change anything, I just needed to see you, because-" I broke off into a choked cry. Why was it always me who ended up getting hurt? Was this some fucked up karma from a past life or am I just gluten for punishment?

"I don't know what to say." He said.

"It's okay," I muttered through my tears. "I know what we are – and I know what we're not."

He stared at me for a long moment and in my desperation, I honestly thought he was going to change his mind. He didn't, of course. "I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be."

"I'm sorry for everything." I turned away so he couldn't see me cry anymore.

He reached over and pulled me in towards me, hugging me so tightly I almost stopped breathing. "Don't apologise." He sounded kind. God why couldn't he just be a dick? Why couldn't he call me a freak and a psychopath? Why couldn't he tell me to piss off because he didn't want me, and tell me to move the fuck on? At least then I could hate him. But sitting like that, with my head on his shoulder, crying into his shirt whilst he wrapped his arm round me and whispered that everything was going to get better, my heart only swelled with one emotion. Love. Fucking love. This boy had shattered my heart into a million pieces and I couldn't even muster the energy to do anything but love him. I was a mess.

After what felt like centuries later and yet still too soon, reality began to seep into the bubble we'd created and shame enveloped me. "I'm going to go," I finally uttered, abruptly standing up, not allowing myself to relish in the comfort of his arms. "I've caused myself enough humiliation for one night, I'm sorry, again."

He just looked at me with those huge, sad eyes. "No, I'm the one who's sorry, Lena. You deserve someone else. Someone who treats you better, someone who can make you happy."

My face was burning red but I tried to salvage the last of my dignity. I forced myself to look him in the eye. "Maybe I do deserve someone else, but I always wanted _you_."

If someone asked me if I was able to pinpoint the exact moment my life started to fall apart, I would tell them, without question, it was April 25th 2013. That moment when I barely managed to get out of Damon's perpetual vision before I collapsed on the pavement and cried until there was no tears left. The half hour I spent curled up in a ball unable to feel anything except numbness. The truth that I would probably still be there if a police car hadn't stopped and dragged me home, waking up my confused parents in the middle of the night. I was too distraught to communicate what had happened and collapsed onto my bed an empty shell of a girl. All I longed for weeks after was a moment when the pain would stop, when I could take a breath and it didn't hurt as much anymore. That moment never came and I realised how stupid I was for ever believing it would.


	8. Chapter 8

**NB: To the reviewer who asked if the previous chapter had been used in one of my other stories, that one and this one are all that survived from the initial post of this story! If you **_**really **_**want to feel the mood of this story I highly recommend the song as I think it perfectly conjures up the image I'm trying to depict. **

**PS: I'll try and update once more before Sunday but if not, it'll be possibly August before my next update! **

Lee Ann Womack – Last Call  
_I bet you're in a bar, listening to a cheating song;  
That Johnny Walker Red,  
With no one to take you home.  
I bet you're in a bar;  
'Cause I'm always your last call._

_June 18__th__ 2013_

_Dear diary,_

_Isn't it ironic how our hearts can still get hurt by something we've seen coming? _

_E x_

Life got so much harder after that. I thought things couldn't get any worse when I'd fell face flat onto dirt, I thought I'd suffered enough humiliation when Damon had rejected me over and over again, I thought he'd lost his hold on me. He hadn't. He never had. Sometimes I don't think he ever will. When my phone rang at half one in the morning on a random Tuesday and I saw his name light up my phone, I knew there was no way I could ever ignore it.  
"Hello?"  
"'Lena?" He sounded very, very drunk.  
"Damon? What do you want?" It was the first contact I'd had with him in a long time. Since that night in his garden, I'd been trying my best to keep busy – my parents were away on holiday so I didn't have the distraction of their company. I had been skipping my lectures to avoid him which left me with an extensive amount of reading to catch up on. On top of that, I was working over 40 hours a week and had started volunteering at a law firm one day a week. Between it all, I didn't have much time to think. Which was the plan; anything to keep my mind off reality. Reality was the devil.

"'Lenaaaa, I neeeeed you." He was trying to sound sexy but with his slurred words, he just came across as a drunk asshole who knew I would do anything for him. I don't know what was more embarrassing, the way he was tripping over his words or the fact that he was right: I would do anything for him.

"Damon, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"No," he paused briefly to belch. "Late?"

"Goodbye Damon." I sighed. I knew that was my cue to terminate the phone-call but the chances of me hanging up were pathetically low. Still, it did grab his attention.

"Elena. Wait. Please."

"Go home, Damon." I growled.

"'Lena, please." He was mumbling his words but even through his drunken slumber, I could sense the fear in his tone. Fear that I might actually be finished with him. A completely irrational fear. "Please, please help me."

I grumbled but I was already out of my bed, grabbing my car keys and a jacket. I loved him; that was the only real reason I was doing this and no matter how much he'd hurt me, I'd always keep loving him and I would do anything for him, whenever he asked and whatever it was.

"Where are you?" I snapped.

He still managed to look beautiful even in his intoxicated state; his favourite leather jacket reeking of beer and slouched over the bar nursing an old man's drink.

"He's been like that for a while." The bartender with the push-up bra informed me. When I'd arrived she'd been pushing a glass of water in his direction and seemed almost disheartened that I'd actually shown up. I think she was hoping if I didn't appear, she could have taken him home for the night.

Damon was managing to cling to the edge of consciousness by the skin of his teeth when I got to him. I half-carried him to the car, surprisingly not receiving as many weird looks as I'd anticipated. We looked a picture – him sweaty and about to collapse and me struggling along, still wearing my pyjama shorts. Still I suppose, in a dive bar at 2 in the morning on a Tuesday night, we weren't the strange ones. Damon passed out before I'd even had time to put my seatbelt on, giving me the car ride back to his flat to torture myself with his scent and push back tears to the thought that he wasn't mines.

"Damon," I shook him awake. He woke up with a jump. "Damon, you're home. Go to bed."

"'Lena," he mumbled. "Please."

"Please, what?" I sighed.

"Don't leave me here." He mumbled. "I don't want to be alone."

I didn't even know what that meant but I was so pathetic. It had been so long since I'd spent time with him and I yearned for his company as much as his intoxicated self apparently yearned for mines. _Ok_, I agreed, starting up the ignition.

When we arrived at my house, he had started to sober up enough to make it up the stairs without my help. I started to help him take off his jacket and t-shirt but he grabbed my hand and held it in place. Everything moved very slowly then; his free hand reached up to push hair back from my face and I was transfixed by his glassy gaze. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes trailing downwards towards my body, lingering on my low cut pyjama top. Without a word, he reached up and pushed the strap of my cami off my shoulders.

His intentions were clear but I forced myself to save some dignity and put some space between us. I went downstairs to get him a glass of water and by the time I came back, he had taken off all his clothes except his boxers and appeared to be asleep on my bed.

Watching him lie there, I couldn't help the strangled sound that escaped me as I realised how much I missed him. "Why do I let you do this me," I mumbled to the boy on my bed.

"'Lena," he murmured. _Shit_. So he was awake.

"Just go to sleep, Damon." I sighed.

"Elena, please." He whispered.

"Please what?"

"Just please,"

When he didn't say anything else, I'd assumed he hadn't meant anything by it. When I heard him shuffling about, I thought he was just getting comfy. When I felt his hands tug on my pyjama shorts, I thought he'd made a mistake.

"Damon—"

"Please," he begged, the desperation evident in his voice, moving closer towards me. "I just need you, to be here, with me."

How could I deny him? He was offering me everything I'd ever wanted.

The next morning I awoke to a cold pillow and a note scribbled on the back of a receipt. _"Doesn't change anything. Sorry._

The saddest thing is when you are no longer surprised when someone breaks your heart.


	9. Chapter 9

**Don't say I'm not good to you… my last update until August as I begin my travels around Europe tomorrow. Please review, it means so much to be.  
PS: To the reviewer who has commented about my other story, I have already addressed the question at the beginning of a previous chapter! **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's extra long. And for now…  
Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.**

**Chapter 9**

Taylor Swift – I Almost Do  
_And I just wanna tell you, it takes everything in me not to call you,  
and I wish I could run to you.  
And every time I don't,  
I almost do._

_June 19__th__ 2013._

_Dear diary,_

_They say that drugs are bad but so are kisses from boys who don't love you._

_E x_

After that night, I had to get away. From everything, from everyone but especially from Damon; the thought of seeing him after I'd let him humiliate me again was too much to handle. I just wanted to go somewhere where nobody knew my name or my story. My parents weren't due home for another few days and I made an impulsive decision to get out of there whilst there was nobody to stop me. I packed a bag, left a note to say I was sorry and ran to the train station. I never even cared where I ended up, I just took the first train out of there and rode it to the end of the line. I ended up in Edinburgh but the capital of Scotland was far too expensive for me so after a few days I made my way to Glasgow. I hadn't been there since I was a kid but the city hadn't changed much. That's where I've been for the past couple of years. When I got on the train I realised I hadn't even bothered to take my mobile, whether that was a blessing in disguise I'm not sure because at least I had no way to contact him. Instead, I bought one of those old Pay-As-You-Go phones with no internet access and I only use it for the essentials. When I knew my parents were due home, I phoned the house to give them a heads up that I wasn't coming home. They were furious, naturally and my dad was ready to drive up to get me and drag me back home. Possibly that's why I never told them exactly where I was, I just told them I was in Scotland and I would come home when I was ready. Eventually they had to accept it – they couldn't do anything else, I was 19 and legally an adult. Now I was emancipated and ready for a fresh start.

It sort of worked, I guess. I mean I got a new start but whether or not it's fresh is up for discussion. I work two jobs as a waitress in a fancy restaurant in the city centre and as a bartender in a nightclub on weekends. My initial plan was to only stay in Glasgow for the summer but by the time September came around, I wasn't ready to face my old life. Luckily, I was able to get in contact with the university who let me postpone my degree indefinitely. I'm sure they only allowed it because I'd got distinctions in all my exams. I keep in regular contact with my parents; I didn't fall off the grid completely but I did ask that my parents didn't come and visit me. I was frank about why as well – I live in a dump. I didn't tell them why I'd left but somehow they figured it out. Needless to say, my dad is gunning for Damon Salvatore.

My life for the past two years has consisted of mostly work and going out. I don't really have a lot of friends but most of the people I work with are young and like to go out so I usually always have someone to tag along with. For a while I tried to become the female version of Damon – sleeping with men, no strings attached. I wanted to bring back control to my life – I wanted everything on my terms. People who would come over when I ask them to and leave when they're told. I suppose to most of them, I'm the perfect woman. Someone you can fuck without worrying they'll want to talk to you about their fucking feelings. It worked for a while.

When I came to Glasgow, I tried to supress all of my feelings, to shield myself from ever falling for someone like I fell for Damon. Only one person has ever been persistent enough to break down my barriers – my best friend, Caroline Forbes.

Caroline is your definition of a bubbly blonde; she has the biggest smile, the bounciest hair and the brightest personality. She is a ray of sunshine; a good honest soul. She works in the restaurant with me and whilst it took me nearly a year for me to _get_ her, I honestly don't know where I'd be without her now. When I first started, she was a nightmare; irritating, asked way too many questions and far too lively for the way I felt back then. Now, I couldn't think of a person I like more. Caroline is 24 and a film major at the University of Glasgow, she is absolutely and positively in love with her boyfriend Stefan and she lives with her mum who is the chief of police in the city centre. She told me this the first day I met her which was way too much information for me. I sort of brushed her off, avoided her if I could. But she was persistent for some weird reason and she pursued a friendship that I really didn't want. Until I finally gave in, and I couldn't be happier that I eventually did.

We formed a strong friendship really quickly once we started hanging out more; I don't know if it was because neither of us really had good girl friends but she basically became my best friend overnight. Out of everyone I had met in Glasgow, she was the only one who made me laugh and the only one who made me forget about Damon. And she wasn't pushy like you might expect; I mean sure she asked so many stupid questions about what I had for dinner and where I got my nails done but she never pried into my personal life.

Eventually though, that changed. And she wanted answers.

"Why are you so sad, 'Lena?" she asked me one night after a bottle of wine. I winched, the nickname still hurt. "That's what I mean," she continued at my obvious distress, "even a nickname makes you sad."

"Just leave it, Care." I sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Babe, I met you over a year ago and I've never asked you about this. But I need you to tell me; I can't call you my best friend when I don't know what is – quite clearly - a defining point in your life."

"I don't even know where I'd begin," I mumbled.

"Then I'll start," she pressed. "You were at university studying Law - why would you give it all up to come and waitress in Glasgow?"

Would she believe me if I said it was for the weather?

Finally, I had to tell her and I guess, deep down, I wanted to say what had happened out loud. To have someone else share my pain. "There was a boy."

"There always is," she sighed pouring herself another drink. "Tell me more."

So I told her, not everything of course and not in detail. But I told her more that I'd ever told anyone else. I told her about my relationship with Damon and how he had broken my heart. I told her about the last night before I'd left – the night after the bar. And she had sympathised, to an extent. But she also thought it was bullshit.

"He's a boy, honey." She'd told me gently. Things about Caroline Forbes – she used _a lot _of pet names. "And you let him ruin your life; I mean, you dropped out of a course just because you didn't want to see him."

"You don't understand," I tried to retaliate.

She cut me off immediately. "People always said that but we've all had that one boy who fucked us up. I've had shitty relationships – I've had a man who made me feel like I was shit on his shoe and not worthy of any love. I've had people shout abuse at me when I walked down a corridor because he'd told them I had an abortion when I wasn't even pregnant to begin with, I've been called every name under the sun. And I've came out of the other side stronger than ever."

Wow. That was the first time Caroline had ever really opened up to me, I realised then. She'd told me details of her life, sure, but only the good things. She'd never told me anything serious like this, it did make me question my reaction to Damon. "But you have Stefan." I finally said.

"Yes, I do. And I love him. But Stefan doesn't control my happiness – hell that boy could show up here right now and tell me it's over and I'd be fine. Sure I'd kick the shit out of him and cry a hell of a lot but I'd be fine, I'd get over it. But that dickhead from high school, he made me realise no-one should be able to control my happiness."

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

After that night, I developed a newfound admiration for Caroline. She was strong; stronger than I gave her credit for and stronger than I could ever hope to be. She only worked in the restaurant part-time because she still had her degree but I started to try and work my shifts at times she was there because she brought me joy on sad days. Of course, when I told her that she was real mad.  
"What did I tell you?" She sighed. "Don't let someone else control your happiness. Be your own happiness, babe."  
"I don't think I'm there yet," I admitted.  
"I don't think you are either," She smiled brightly. "But you're getting there."

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

One of the many reasons I love Caroline Forbes: she comes in handy in a crisis situation.

It was summertime when I saw him; June was the one of the busiest months of the year for us, only second to the festive period and the restaurant was buzzing. There was a queue of people at the door and tables calling my attention. It was full of Glaswegians treating themselves on their day off and a few holidaymakers who had no doubt only come to Glasgow because it was the cheapest place they could fly to that was outside their home district. I was carrying a tray of drinks over to a family who appeared to be celebrating a special occasion, perhaps a birthday or something, I didn't really care. He was at one of the booths in the corner, the one we usually kept reserved for important people – rich business men who drank whiskey or water and required little service but tipped well or our favourite regulars who ordered from the menu as opposed to the fixed price specials. He looked exactly the same as I remembered only more groomed – dark hair, styled as opposed to messy and untamed, wearing a suit despite the 30 degree heat with a relaxed, easy posture as if he was lunching with friends and not the important meeting his expensive suit suggested. My feet were stapled to the ground and even though I could feel diners start look at me with curiosity and confusion as to why I'd stopped dead in the middle of the restaurant, all I could do was stare at the boy who had shattered my heart into a million pieces and wonder if it was fate or coincidence that had brought him here. He must have felt my gaze because eventually he glanced over and our eyes collided for a second, just a second, but it was enough. I saw his eyes, first filled with curiosity, then recognition and finally confusion. It was too much. The tray of drinks I was holding clattered to the ground and glass went everywhere.

In the background, I could vaguely hear a collection of murmurs followed my Caroline's high-pitched laugh drowning out all the titters. "Good one, girl!" She hooted coming into my line of view but she was just a blur because I couldn't take my eyes off the boy-turned-man sitting metres behind her. Time froze as I felt every single emotion I've ever repressed about him came flooding to the surface. Every kiss, every touch, every word. And all the pain. Oh, there was so much pain. And I knew it then: whoever said time heals all wounds was wrong. Time didn't heal wounds, it only numbed them temporarily. And my two year trance was over. The moment he stood up, reality kicked in. And the only thing I knew for sure was I needed to get the hell out of there.

"Please, Care," I begged, my mouth struggling to keep up with the words my brain was pouring out. "I need to – here – please – sorry."

"What?" She was staring at me, perplexed.

"It's _him_." And with that, I bolted out the front door hoping she would understand but knowing that she would have my back regardless.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

"ELENA." I heard him scream my name as I took off down the street but I didn't let myself stop to let it sink in. Adrenaline had kicked in and I was weaving through crowds of people, my vision blurring from tears that I refused to let escape. He kept shouting my name and I could feel his presence behind me at every turn. Eventually I bolted down at alley hoping he would run past me. He didn't. As if he sensed my presence, he stopped at the entrance and turned in my direction. Then slowly, very slowly, he walked towards me.

"Elena," he was still struggling to steady his breathing after our Olympic-style sprint. "Whaaaat-are-you-doinghere."

I couldn't even fathom a response. Just hearing his voice brought back every feeling inside of me and they all came spilling out. I fell to pieces in the middle of the alley, sinking to the ground. I caught his eyes as I sank to the floor and I could see how much guilt there was, the realisation that he had caused this, probably the realisation that I was here because of him. He didn't say anything else, he just came to sit next to me even though the dirt from the ground would probably make his suit dirty. We sat like that for a while, long enough for me to supress ever feeling that had just erupted and to gather my composure.

"I live here." I said after an eternity of silence.

"What?" He looked around at the alley way we were standing in, clearly confused. I couldn't help but laugh. It came out strangled.

"Not _here_, you idiot. In Glasgow." The words might sound playful but the air was tense.

More silence. More questions lingered in the air.

"I got an internship with Kelly &amp; Co. Its main office is based in Glasgow and they asked me to meet with the manager this weekend. That's who I waswith in the restaurant." He offered up.

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. Well done for having your life together when mines was so clearly stuck in purgatory?

"That'll be me going into Honours come September."

More silence.

"Crazy that it's been two years."

Felt like an eternity.

"Are you going to say anything?"

I wasn't.

"I was so upset when your mum told me you'd left. She gave me the note you left me."

Note? It took me a second to realise what he was talking about but when I remembered, I felt shame envelope me. In my heartache at leaving London, I have left Damon a pathetic note.

_D,_

_It's a frightening concept, that in one fraction of a moment you can fall in the kind of love that takes a lifetime to get over. I probably won't ever get over you but I at least have to try._

_E x_

"Sorry about that. It was stupid."

"It wasn't. It was incredible."

"Incredibly stupid." I murmured.

"Your mum had already read it when she gave it to me. I guess she wanted to know why you'd left. She wasn't too happy with me, said I broke you."

"You did."

"I'm sorry." Sorry? Was that really all he had to say? I had to move cities to stop myself having a mental breakdown and he thought he could fix it by saying _sorry_?

"Forget about it. Over it." Lies.

"I wanted to make it work. When we went back to uni I mean, I wanted us to be friends. I had this speech that I'd rehearsed for the first day about how sorry I was for that night, that night when we um, well you-know and then I, um." He was rambling and I hoped the look I gave him expressed my desire for him to stop talking. Either he didn't get it or he didn't take me up on it. "But you never showed up. The first day, or the next day or for the rest of the week. I went onto our class list but your name wasn't there anymore. And then I-"

"_Wait." _I stopped his babbling waving my hand across his face. "I left in _June_. Are you telling me that you never realised I was gone for three months?"

"Well," he started stumbling over his words. "After that night at yours-"

"The worst night of my life." I interjected.

"Yeah, well, it was awkward. I mean, I didn't know how you felt and then I didn't want to get your hopes up again, and,"

"You're a dick." I spat, jumping to my feet. I could feel two years' worth of anger replacing the anguish and everything came rushing to the surface. I could accept him saying sorry, for not returning my feelings and even for the way he handled ending things with us but I was gone for _three whole months _before he realised I was gone? That I could not handle. "You are one horrible, pathetic, spineless dick. I _cried _for you, Damon. I moved to fucking Glasgow because of you. I ruined my future and for what? What even are you? You're a joke."

I began to storm off but he grabbed my arm, "Elena, wait-"

I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could until someone came running. "Get him _away _from me."

The first thing I did when I got away from him was go into the first off-licence I saw. There was a deal on gin. I didn't even drink gin but for him, I had to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Hello. I am back – I would apologise for the wait between chapters but I did warn you and I had the best summer of my life so I'm not too apologetic. I know so many of you are sick of Elena and her wimpy personality – believe me, I'm sick of writing it and so many times, especially in this chapter and the previous one I wanted to delete it all and start again but that would require changing much of the later chapters. **

**Just hang in there – Elena will grow a pair soon. **

**Love, Jessica.**

Taylor Swift – All Too Well  
_Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much.  
But maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'till you tore it all up.  
Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well._

"Elena!" a loud bang revived me from my drunken slumber and the sudden awakening caused me to tumble from the couch onto the floor with a loud crash. Following that, the bottle on the coffee table rolled over the edge and smashed into pieces all over my hand.  
"Owwwwww." I couldn't help my pathetic whimper, loud enough to temporary halt the ruckus taking place at my door.  
"'Lena?" It was Caroline. Not surprising that she'd came to check up on me, she'd been constantly ringing my phone, probably to find out why I had been skipping work all week.  
"Care, I love you but not today." My voice was croaky and I realised it was the first I'd spoken in nearly a week. These past 5 days had been a strange cycle of waking up drunk and drinking more to help me fall back asleep. Sleeping tablets had become my best friend and I couldn't remember the last time I ate.  
"Elena Gilbert. Open this door _right now _or I will break it down."  
"Try it." I taunted.  
Moments later, I heard not the sound of her trying to break it down but the sound of a key turning in the lock and in she came.  
"What the hell?" The brightness from the hallway juxtaposed with the pitch blackness of my apartment blinded me temporarily.  
"I thought I'd let you salvage your dignity first but you didn't take me up on it. Your landlord gave me a key. Apparently he was worried about the smell." She sniffed. "I can see why. You're a mess. What have you done to your hand?"  
"Caroline," I groaned. "Go away."  
"No." She wandered into the next room and I could hear the shower being switched on. A moment later, she came back with a cloth for my hand. "I've let you wallow for a week. He's a fucking boy, get a grip."  
Harsh but true. Still, it didn't help.  
"He wasn't just _a _boy, Care. He was _the _boy, and he doesn't fucking care."  
"If he was _the _boy, he would care. Simple. Get a shower."  
"Go away," I growled, reaching for one of the many glasses that had some sort of alcohol in it.  
"Get in the fucking shower or I will drag you there myself." She threatened, snatching the glass from my hand.  
I stared at her, believing all she contained were empty threats. That was something I lived to regret. Grabbing me by the arms, she yanked me up and dragged me into the toilet and threw me - fully clothed - into the shower. She was surprisingly strong.  
"We can do it the easy way or the hard way, Elena but either way, you will take a shower and you will get dressed. Now, what will it be?"

In the end, I chose to take a shower on my own accord and put on fresh jeans and a shirt. When I emerged from my room an hour later, Caroline had cleaned my apartment and opened a window. The place looked semi-normal again. In the kitchen all traces of alcohol seemed to be disintegrated and the only thing on the table was a glass of water and two aspirin.  
"Much better." Caroline came in behind me.  
"Ok, I'm up, I'm ready. Now what?"  
"Now we get out of this apartment. Fresh air is key. And we talk. Really talk, I mean."  
"Care, I don't want to talk."  
"Not an excuse anymore. I've given you your privacy because I didn't want to seem nosey but now your health is at stake and you will talk to me."

Half an hour later, we were sitting in Costa; Caroline with a latte and me with a cheese toastie she'd insisted I have. The smell of cheese made me want to be sick and the bread was too heavy for my undernourished stomach but she wouldn't leave me be until I ate at least half of it. We compromised at a couple of small bites.  
"So." She eventually said. "tell me. And no bullshit. Go."  
So I told her. Everything – and I mean everything. From the first time we met up to the present day when he proved he had never cared in the first place. When I finished I was in tears and she gave me a hug. "He's a dick." was all she said.  
"A huge dick."  
"I hate what he's done to you and I hate that it took you this long to tell me about it."  
"I don't know what to do Care," I started crying. "I love him."  
"No you don't," She sighed. "You can't love someone who treats you like that."  
"I can't help it,"  
"Elena, you need to move on." She said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. I opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off. "And I don't mean you avoid him until he goes back home and spend the rest of your life wallowing in self-pity and wondering if you'll ever see him again because that's not moving on, that's hiding. You've been hiding for nearly two years, it's time to confront him."  
"And say what?"  
"Give him hell, babe. Give him hell for the way he's treated you – and believe it. Believe that when you call him a dick that he's a dick, believe that when you say you fucking hate him that it's true. Make him pay. He deserves it."  
"I don't know if I can do that, Care," I covered my face with my hands. "When I saw him all these feelings came rushing back, I don't know how I'm going to ever face him again."  
Caroline looked as if she was getting tired. "Elena, he doesn't deserve you. He ruined your life."  
"No, he _is_ my life."  
Caroline looked disgusted at me for even suggesting such a thing. "That's embarrassing."  
"It's the truth."  
"Oh Elena," Caroline's eyes filled with tears as she spoke. "He doesn't care, darling. He doesn't love you the way you love him. He isn't sitting in his hotel room crying because you rejected him and he doesn't think about you anymore, if he wanted you in his life, he would have tried. He doesn't love you, Elena. I'm so sorry."  
Now I was full on balling because they were words that I never wanted to hear in a million years. Even though I knew it was true, even though Damon had demonstrated at every turn that he didn't love me, didn't want me, I was still desperately clinging on to the idea that one day he would realise I was the one for him. Caroline had just shattered that hope.

She saw me crying and rushed to speak. "I know that's horrible to say out loud and I know you might not think it's my place but remember that boyfriend I told you about who ruined my life? His name was Kai, he was my high school sweetheart. My mum hated him, of course. He was completely gorgeous but a complete control-freak; he wanted me to give him everything whilst he cheated on me every weekend. Turned me into a paranoid wreck. I wish I had a friend to tell me the harsh truth, instead my friends all avoided the question and every time he texted me something cute after we'd split up, they'd let me go back with him. It ruined my last year of high school and he's the reason I dropped out of university after only a few months – he said I wasn't seeing him enough. Thankfully, after we split up for good I was able to reapply and get back in."  
"I just, I just thought I was different," I cried. "I thought _we _were different."  
"Everyone always thinks they're different but no one is. There's the rule and the exception and we're the rule babe."  
"Ok, Care," I didn't think I could hear anymore.  
"I know you don't want to hear this, 'Lena." She was crying with me now. "But if I don't tell you it now, I'm scared no-one ever will."

**x-x-x-x-x**

I cried all night thinking about Caroline's words because as much as I wanted to, I couldn't be mad at her for what she'd said. What she'd said was harsh and ruthless but it was still the truth. And I knew I needed to hear it, I knew if she hadn't said it no-one ever would have and I'd probably still be 80 and in love with Damon Salvatore. I woke up in the early hours of the morning and went out a long run. Then I finished the tidying Caroline had started yesterday only this time, I gutted out my entire apartment throwing out all traces of a girl with a sad past. When 3 o'clock came and it was time to start my shift, the place was unrecognisable.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Walking through the back door to work, you would genuinely have thought I'd punched my boss in the face. He was absolutely furious with my behaviour and refused to acknowledge my apologies and excuses. I think the only reason I managed to keep my job was because someone came running through the back begging for more staff and he just growled at me to "do my fucking job". That was going to be hard when the first person I encountered upon leaving the staff room was Damon.  
"Elena," he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw me; I had a feeling this had been a daily occurrence and wondered why Caroline hadn't bothered to tell me.  
"I'm working Damon." I tapped my foot.  
"I know, this'll just take a minute though. Do you have a minute?"  
"I really don't, I'm sorry. I'm already in deep shit." I was too wired from being shouted at to really overthink Damon's presence there.  
"I'll wait." He said, simply. "Could I get a menu?"  
I got another waitress to serve him because I couldn't face it but when my break came exactly 2 hours and 2 minutes later, he was still there and I joined him to find he'd ordered me a ham salad. "Sorry it's quite a shit meal," he was sheepish. "I didn't know when your break would be and I wanted something that wouldn't go cold."  
I just nodded absentmindedly, feeling slightly awkward when one of the waitresses brought over the pasta dish that I'd ordered specifically for my break. "Sorry," I murmured as I chewed my food. "It's my usual for every shift."  
"No it's okay," he replied seemingly cool though I could see a slight blush in his cheeks. "I just forget stuff like this is your everyday life, it still doesn't seem real."  
"Yeah."  
There was a long pause and I could see him struggling for how to continue. "You know," he pulled something out his pocket with an abrupt change of tone. "I found this the other day on my laptop when I synched my phone up and printed it out, cute isn't it?"  
It was a photograph of us that day we went to the movies and then for dinner. I remember Elle had insisted on taking it. We looked so happy, so carefree… so young. The last day I remember everything felt _right_. When I looked at the photo now though, I couldn't help but think about how alien it felt to me. How strange it was that we could ever have been that happy when I looked at how we were now. But there was no bitterness there, only nostalgia tinged with sadness.

Not that I could say any of this to him so I said the only thing I deemed appropriate in the five second delay. "God, look at my hair."  
His face fell, clearly he thought this would stir some visible emotion within me. Didn't he know I had years of practice mastering the art of pretending not to care?  
"Anyway, I need to get back to work. Please don't feel obligated to stay any longer."  
"No, I want to."  
"Damon, that wasn't a suggestion. Go home."

When I came back out from the staff room, he was gone.  
It hit me then, how much I missed him, how much I wanted him to be there. Even though I'd told him to go, my heart ached for him to stay. I'd been away for two years and in that time I'd convinced myself I didn't miss him anymore and the dull ache inside of me was perfectly normal and just part of the healing process. I'd convinced myself I was over him but the funny thing about that is it's easy to say you're over someone if you aren't seeing them. The challenge is to look them in the eye and see their smile and hear their voice and still be able to say "this is not what I want anymore." I didn't know if I'd ever be able to say that to Damon.


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm going to be reallllly honest here guys – I don't like this chapter, it's a serious filler chapter but the next chapter may be one of my favourites of the story so please stay with me because I think you'll like chapter 12!**

**Thanks for everyone asking if I enjoyed my travels, I really did! Italy is the most beautiful country in the world, I urge you all to visit it if you can! **

**Chapter 11**

Maxwell – This Woman's Work  
_I should be crying but I just can't let it go,  
Should be hoping but I can't stop thinking,  
Of all the things we should've said that I never said._

Damon and I met up twice since that day he came to see me in work. Caroline begged me not to see him, she told me it would be a disaster and a mistake. She was right, of course. What I was starting to realise about Caroline Forbes is when it came to relationships, she knew what she was talking about.

The first time we met up for dinner in a restaurant that served salad which cost more than my rent. I knew that this was Damon's way of apologising for all I'd been through and he had every intention of paying but I was too full of pride to accept him paying a small fortune for soup and a plate of chips. The night ended with me storming out mere moments after we'd sat down.

The second time he took me to McDonald's. I knew he was trying to make light of the failed dinner attempt but he didn't realise that it was far too soon to be making jokes. So much had changed in two years and he wasn't allowed to resume the level of comfortableness that our prior friendship had permitted. Once again, I stormed out.

But now, against Caroline's wishes and my own best judgement, we were trying for lucky number three.

We met at a park near the restaurant; I had refused to let Damon pick me up on all three occasions because I was scared if he knew where I lived, he'd just show up uninvited. This time, he'd got the food right, at least. He took me to a Tapas bar near George Square.

"So how are you?" He attempted to make small talk.

I just glared at him.

"'Lena, I know you're angry but you gotta at least talk to me. Let's fix this. I know that's what you want, you wouldn't have come otherwise."

I stood up to leave, infuriated by his arrogance but it was gone in an instance and he jumped to his feet. "No! Sorry. Don't leave." He begged reaching over to clutch my arm. "Please?"

I rolled my eyes and shook him off. "How am I?" I sat back down. "I'm fine."

He seemed pleased that I had said more than two words and persisted with more questions. "What do you do here? When you're not working?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Go out, hang with Caroline."

"Caroline's the blonde from your work?" He persisted.

I eye-balled him. "How do you know?"

"She slapped me."

"She _what?"_ Caroline had NOT told me about this.

He laughed sheepishly. "The day after you left me in the alleyway, I went to your work to try and find you. I recognised her from being with you and asked if she knew where you were and she slapped me right in the middle of the restaurant."

I laughed.

"Your boss wasn't happy," he continued.

"What did he say?"

"Don't worry, I didn't let her get into trouble. I think I managed to calm him down." Probably because Caroline is one of the sweetest people you could ever meet in your life and if she was slapping someone, you can bet your ass they deserved it. I mused in silence for most of the main course, proud of my best friend for having my back.

"Are you coming home?" He asked suddenly, bringing me out of my daydream.

I was immediately on the defensive. "I _am _home."

He just sighed. "You know what I mean, you can't work as a waitress for the rest of your life. You're better than that."

"I don't really think it's any of your business."

His eyes flashed with what I can only describe as pure rage and I hated myself a little bit for how filled with glee I was. He was angry because _of course _he believedit was his business, he was the reason I'd left university in the first place. If I wound up working here until I was 65 that would be on his conscience. Not that I'd ever blame him for my current occupation; he may have broken my heart but it was I who had decided to leave and I who had ruined my life. He was just the catalyst.

"I know you think you are responsible Damon," I started.

"I _am _responsible."

"You're not. You didn't make me drop out, I was too weak to face up to the fact you didn't want me and I had to leave. That's on me, not you."

"If I'd just not been just a dick, if I'd treated you right, if I'd-"

"If you'd what? Been my boyfriend? You didn't want that Damon and I can't blame you." I took a deep breathe, knowing what I was going to say would change everything. "I was angry at you for a long time Damon. A really long time."

He started to speak but I gave him a look that said shut the hell up.

"But I'm not anymore," I continued. "In fact, I'm happy everything worked out as it has. I know that sounds crazy to you because you only see the bad things about my life but I've been really happy since I came here. I've met Caroline who has been the best friend anyone could have ever asked for and I've had the chance to grow up and experience life on my own – not many people get the chance to fund themselves from the age of 19. As far as university goes, yes I will come home eventually and I will finish my degree but I don't regret leaving it for this long; I've learned so much from living here, most of all, I've learned how to be happy on my own."

He didn't say anything when I finished and I didn't expect him to, I knew it was a lot to digest and ponder.

I didn't want desert and I was exhausted from this evening of exchanging feelings; I just wanted to go home. So I let him pay the bill, I let him hold the door open for me when we left the restaurant and I let him walk me to a taxi. I didn't let him give me a ride home, I didn't let him kiss me goodnight and I didn't let him organise another date. I felt a strange sense of relief at how the night had gone – we'd talked, we'd got everything out in the open and we were in a good place now. That's not why I felt such a relief though, I realised something for the first time in my life- I finally felt like I was done. I'd loved him, I'd lost him and now finally I was on the other side and ready to restart my life.

This feeling lasted the taxi journey home, until I had a shower and put my pyjamas on. Until I was tucked up in bed and I heard my phone vibrate. When I read his text I knew I wasn't done at all.

_I still love you x_

Everything you love will one day kill you, whether it's cigarettes, or drugs, or the boy with the blue eyes, they all kill you in the end.

**Next chapter will be up ASAP!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Next chapter is good to go! I hope you enjoy; I'm actually unsure how you will take to this and I think you might be surprised but we'll see. Please review and let me know!**

**Chapter 12**

Brad Paisley &amp; Carrie Underwood – Remind Me  
_Do you remember how it used to be?  
We'd turn out the lights and we didn't just sleep…  
Remind me, baby, remind me.  
So on fire and so in love,  
That look in your eyes that I miss so much. _

He followed me home. That bastard followed me home. I went to four different places to try and lose him and he still managed to find me. And now he knows where I live. Brilliant.

I first spotted him when I got out the gym – there was a black Range Rover parked up with its interior light on but no driver. I figured if someone cared so much about expensive cars they would care about a dead battery. Alarm bells started to ring in my head and my thoughts turned towards Damon ducking out of sight as soon as he saw me coming out the gym. Whilst I couldn't be sure, when I drove away I caught the Range Rover in the car window following in the distance. I drove to the petrol station and though the car didn't follow me in, when I pulled out 5 minutes later I saw it parked a little down the road. I thought I'd lost it on the way home from the supermarket but I can see the car parked right across the road from my flat with Damon situated inside. He hadn't got out yet and I hoped he wouldn't, hoped he was just checking the place out and he'd come back tomorrow. Tomorrow was better, tomorrow I could stay with Caroline and avoid coming home and not have to deal with him.

That didn't happen. I was starting to realise that when it came to Damon, nothing ever happened the way I wanted it to.

I wanted a drink. Actually, I wanted to dive headfirst into a pool of vodka and not resurface until I'd drank it all. I wanted to get so drunk that I forgot who Damon Salvatore was and forget that he'd told me he loved me over a text just as I was starting to get over him. But I'd been there before, I'd tried many a time to forget him. And, newsflash: It. Doesn't. Work. Because even at the bottom of a bottle of vodka, even when my vision gets blurred and the room starts spinning, even when I can't remember my own name… I always remember him. He's still the last person I think about before I fall asleep; even after all this time, he's still the only one I dream about.

So tonight I avoided the alcohol, fearing that my resistance was so weak that even one drink would drive me downstairs into his arms and as much as sober me wanted that as well, the stubborn part of my brain refused to let me give in. Instead, I settled into the couch with a mug of hot chocolate and the _Friends _boxset hoping to wait out the impending storm.

I had just finished_ The One With Chandler's Dad _when the highly anticipated knock at the door came.  
"Elena," his voice came when I didn't answer the door. "Elena, I know you're in there. Can you open the door please."  
I stayed silent.  
"Elena, please. We need to talk."  
Did we? About what? How he wouldn't let me go? He thought he could profess his love for me over a text and everything would be okay?  
"Please, baby, please."  
His pet-name infuriated me and I spoke unfiltered. "I'm not your baby."  
"Got you talking to me though," He paused for a moment, maybe hoping I would say something. When I didn't, I heard him sigh. "Maybe if I call you more you'll open the door."  
I didn't answer so he started calling out pet names through the door. Baby, kitten, angel, darling, princess; they made me want to cry and be sick simultaneously.

I put on music to block him out but he shouted louder. I took a shower so I couldn't hear anymore but when I came out, he was still talking to the empty room. Realising this could go on all night unless I put a stop to it, I made a move. Wearing only a towel, I threw open the door only to tell him to shut up and go away but suddenly we were face to face. And it was the closest I'd been to him in years, and he still loved me, and I could smell his aftershave and god he smelt good, and he still loved me, and his eyes were pouring into mines, and _he still loved me_. Resistance evaporated as if it was never there at all.

I kissed him.

I didn't even give him time to speak or breathe and I don't know who was more surprised about what was happening. My head was spinning and the only thing I was sure of was that if I didn't kiss him, my world was going to collapse. I just needed to be near him, to feel his touch, to be with him.

And he kissed me back with equal desperation. As if my kiss was what he'd been craving for a long time, as if he'd been dreaming about it. Desire stirred inside the pit of my stomach and I was reminded of how long it had been since someone had made me feel like this. And his lips were like the fire to my ice and they melted everything until the only thing left was the feeling of him with me. And he was kissing me everywhere and all I wanted was to be as close as humanely possible and it happened without any of us agreeing on it but both of us definitely wanting it.

Somewhere along the line the towel I was wearing got left behind and we were skin to skin and he was looking at me like I was a work of art and I was looking at him looking at me thinking how one kiss had made everything so perfect so quickly. And he was speaking softly into my ear telling me how much he wanted me and how much he needed me and everything I'd dreamt about hearing for so long. And I pulled him closer and I clung so tightly to him and wished this moment would never end.

When I woke up in his arms a few hours later, the sun was just beginning to rise and everything was so peaceful. I watched the birds on the tree through the crack in the window; they weren't chirping like in movies but that didn't matter; in my head, they were singing a thousand love songs. Damon's arm, so hard and strong, was tight around me making me feel so warm and fuzzy inside. It was a feeling I hadn't felt in so long, it was complete unadulterated happiness, one that only came with a feeling of belonging. Like the feeling you get when arrive home after a long journey or when you visit your Grandmother's house and she's made your favourite dinner; it was the feeling of wearing your lover's jumper to bed and the scent makes you feel like he is right there with you. Happiness with no consequences and happiness I was going to soak in and enjoy for as long as possible.

I turned to look at the boy beside me and a sense of nostalgia formed as I realised I couldn't call him that anymore. I had never stroked stubble on his face before and his features were so much more rugged and manly. There was so many things that hadn't changed though; the messy waves of his morning hair, his thick eyebrows so wild and out of control. Almost, as if he felt my gaze, he began to stir and moments later, his eyes peeled open.

He didn't say anything immediately, he just stared at me. A lazy smile formed at his lips. "You're beautiful," he mumbled.

Someone once told me that when a boy tells you that you're beautiful you should run. That boys never say that unless they have an ulterior motive; usually that ulterior motive was sex. But right now, looking at him looking at me I knew Damon meant it. I knew he did think I was beautiful. I rearranged myself so I was lying on top of him, staring down and letting my face fall along the side of his face, he reached up to stroke my cheek and I looked at him like I've never saw him before.

Sometimes you meet a person and even though you have never liked blue eyes before, their eyes are your new favourite colour. That's like Damon, he had the kind of eyes that were wise beyond his years, the kind that made you fall in love with him over and over again. His eyes could end wars and cure cancer. And right now, those eyes were looking at me as if I was a masterpiece, as if I was the only person in the world. And when a boy with blue eyes looks at you like you like you put the stars in the sky, sometimes you can't help but kiss him.

There's a difference between waking up at 6 in the morning when the world in silent and your possibilities are endless and walking up three hours later. Three hours later, reality has seeped through the cracks and a horror washed over me.

Struggling out of the cocoon he'd formed around me, Damon fought against me and pulled me closer. "What's wrong?" He mumbled when he realised I was trying to move away. There was still sleep in his voice but he sounded happy; the kind of happy a few years ago would have made me cry because I knew that happiness was because of me. The kind of happy now that made me sick to my stomach.  
"Let me go." I hissed. His arms dropped immediately and his eyes shot open like he'd been set on fire. I clawed my way out of his reach.  
"Elena?" He jolted upright. His naked body stirred up feelings and I had to look away.  
"This was a mistake. You need to go." I mumbled, throwing his clothes at him.  
"What's wrong? What did I do?" His voice cracked and I knew if I took one look at him, I would run straight back to him.  
"Nothing, I just need you to go. Please."  
"Go where?"  
"Home. Your hotel. Anywhere that's not here." I threw his trousers at him and moved around looking for anything to cover my naked body.  
"Let me go, Damon."  
"Elena. _Look_ at me."  
I wouldn't. I couldn't.  
"Elena, please look at me."  
Reluctantly, I peeled my gaze up from the floor to meet those eyes, those beautiful eyes that could make me jump off a bridge with enough persistence. Right now, they were filled with tears.  
"Damon, I need you to go."  
"Why?"  
"Because," I sighed. He wouldn't leave until I told him the truth. "Because it took me two years to get over you and now you've just waltzed back into my life and told me you loved me and now _this_," I gestured to his t-shirt and trousers that he'd still yet to put on, "happened. And I'm not quite sure how I'm going to get over this yet but I know I have to, and I know I won't do that with you in my life."

"Elena, please-"

"Damon, just go please. I can't do this now."

He didn't. "Elena, I don't understand-"

"You told me you loved me," I could feel the tears bubbling but I wouldn't let him see me cry.

"I do. I love you so fucking much."

"No you don't, you love my body. You don't love me. And that's fine, there's plenty of other bodies out there for you to love."

He looked at me in disbelief. "_That _is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard! Yes, I'm attracted to your body but I'm in love with _you_, all of you, every piece of you.

I shook my head. "I need you to go."

"Please don't do this, baby. Please let me fix this." He was crying hard now and I couldn't bear it. I started crying too.

"There's nothing you can do to fix this Damon don't you see? I can't go back to the way it was before, when my life revolved around you. It ruined me, it ruined everything." Words were failing me now and the tears were coming hard.

He dropped to his knees now and he was holding my hand like he was about to propose to me. "Elena all I want is two things. I want you and I want us. Please please please, don't make me leave. I need you."

Any other words might have ended in a different scenario playing out but these words conjured up a memory. They took me back to the night before I left for Glasgow – a night I'd tried so hard to block out. The night he'd begged me for sex and then left in the morning like it meant nothing to him. Almost as if someone had turned a switch, my tears stopped. The emotion evaporated. My melting heart turned to stone. "No you don't. You don't need anyone except yourself. And I don't need anyone except myself either."

My abrupt change in tone created a momentarily pause in his emotional response. I took that as my opportunity to open the door. He was still naked but that was his fault, not mines. "Leave now, please."

"Don't you even care?" He was crying again.

"I cared once. It fucked me up. _You _fucked me up."

"Elena, please." He begged. "I don't want things to end like this."

"Go home, Damon." I shut the door. "I'm done with you. I want my life back"

I never heard from him after that day – he didn't call again or drop by the flat or the restaurant, he didn't even send me a text. And I was glad, so very glad. As time passed I stopped regretting what had happened that night, it offered me a form of closure that I didn't even know I was craving. There comes a day when you realise turning the page is the best feeling in the world – because you realise there's so much more to the book than the page you were stuck on. That's what life after Damon was like – I realised I had spent so much precious time antagonising over him when I could have spent that time on more important things. If Damon's visit had taught me one thing it was this: nobody was going to give me the world, if I wanted it I had to give it to myself.


	13. Chapter 13

**New chapter! This one wasn't written before hand and in fact, changes the total direction of the story. Initially my story was going to involve Elena being more whiny about how much she loved Damon but reading it back made me cringe – even I can understand that she can't spend that much time moping over a boy she only knew for a short period of time in her youth. I introduced a new character into the mix. I hope you like him, I do.**

Ross Copperman – Holding On and Letting Go  
_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't__  
__It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_

Most days Damon is the last thing on my mind.

Time does what it's intended to, glosses over memories that were once impossibly vivid. The years spreading us father apart in ways that are both heart-breaking and necessary. I stop wondering what he is up to, I stop stressing over if he's thinking about me or if he regrets the way things ended. Feelings that I so long ago romanticised fade in contrast to the brutal reality that is Damon, the boy who I looked at and once saw the word 'forever' staring back at me, is a stranger now. He isn't the boy who bought me jewellery and took me out on cinema dates. He isn't the boy who told me he was so in love with every piece of me and cried when I told him to leave. He's a man now, and he's a man I've never met.

But sometimes, when I hear a certain song or I see a dark haired boy in a leather jacket it all comes rushing back to me and it feels like nothing has changed at all. I forget it's been years since the last time he held me, the last time he kissed me. It's been forever since I last heard his voice.

Most days Damon is the last thing on my mind. But on those days when he is, on those days when a long forgotten memory brings me right back to the start of our story, it scares me to death.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

But time goes on as it has to. And the minutes turned into days, turned into hours, turned into days, weeks, months and finally, years. It's been 3 years since the last time I had any contact with Damon Salvatore. I made a conscious decision to return home a year later. Damon's time at university had come to an end and he had probably moved somewhere bigger and better to pursue a career. He was probably a millionaire by now.

It was hard at first, being back to where it all began. Walking down the street knowing at any time I could bump into someone who knows him and they would recognise me and ask questions I didn't want to answer. I know that people from my past must be curious about where I disappeared to and I knew from my cousins that there had been rumours spread years ago about my whereabouts. The most popular one was that Damon had got me pregnant and I'd relocated to raise our baby free of judgement. Another one was that I'd dumped Damon and got hitched to a bearded guy on the same night. I liked that rumour better.

Going back to university was strangely easier than I thought it would be; everyone I knew had graduated and the classes were big so the chances of a lecturer recognising me were virtually non-existent. It started off slowly but as the days crept on and the workload increased, my life back in Glasgow seemed to be a distant memory. Caroline, my best friend, my rock and the girl I owed my sanity too, remained my closest ally and we continued to speak almost every day and visit each other whenever our schedules allowed it.

And before I knew it, I had caught up. My life that I'd put on pause for so long was back on track. Now I'm 24 with a graduate job lined up, true friends who I adore and a boyfriend who thinks the world of me and I, him.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Elijah is everything you could want in a boyfriend. He's charming, he's handsome, he makes me feel safe, my parents love him and most importantly, when I first met him he knew nothing of my past. In fact, not only did Elijah know nothing of my past, initially he didn't want to know anything.

We met in a bar which is probably the best and worst place to meet a potential boyfriend or girlfriend when you're in your 20's. It was Christmas time post-semester one of third year exams and I had slowly but surely began to shed off my introverted nature. I was out with some of my classmates celebrating our hellish month of stress when I spotted him. He was standing at the bar with a group of people but he didn't seem to be actually with them; I watched them for a while and though he appeared to interact with them occasionally, he seemed bored and disinterested by their presence. His appearance struck me initially – not only was he gorgeous but he oozed sex appeal. He seemed like someone interesting, someone intelligent and someone I wanted to fuck.

Tequila was the obvious answer.

He noticed me immediately. In his defence, it was hard not to since I was basically on top of him.  
"Hi." I said. "Tequila?"  
He nodded and I ordered two but when they came, he refused to let me pay.  
"I'm Elena," I told him even though I was pretty sure he didn't care.  
"Elijah." He necked the shot. "Let's go for a cigarette."  
I didn't smoke but I wasn't going outside for that reason. Minutes later I texted my friends to say I was going home and Elijah and I got in a taxi.

It would be easy to say that after that night, Elijah and I got together and have been inseparable since but that would be a complete lie. He didn't call me the next day, or the next week, in fact I have no doubt he'd have never spoke to me at all had I not bumped into him in the same bar a month later. I was drunk, he was high and we ended up back at his again. This time though, he texted me the next day and a pattern began every time we were both out. Eventually our hook-ups started to have meaning, feelings became involved and over time it became more and more serious.

Elijah was a serious guy but at the same time, he didn't want to rush things and I certainly wasn't ready to be rushed. He'd just came out of a long-term relationship when I met him. It hadn't been a pretty break-up; the girl, Katherine, had finished it out of nowhere for another boy. She'd been cheating on him for six months; a four year relationship and she didn't even have the decency to break it off first.

The day he asked me out was the day he found out about my past with Damon. Up till then, all I'd told him was that I'd moved to Glasgow to gain some life-experience and that satisfied him enough. But when he asked me to be his girlfriend, the truth had to come out. Initially I had told him I didn't want a boyfriend – now, possibly ever again. He was confused, naturally – for him, what we had _was _a relationship. In the four months since I'd met him in the bar that second time, we'd got together almost every day and when we weren't, we were texting or phoning. He'd met my family and I'd met his, he didn't hook up with other girls and I wouldn't dream of going near any guys. For all intents and purposes, it was a relationship, just without the labels.  
"I just don't see why the label 'girlfriend' changes so much," He was trying to explain.  
"Exactly!" I protested. "So why do we need it?"  
"So we can establish we've made a commitment, 'Lena and this is no longer just a bit of fun and I can stop introducing you to my grandma as my 'friend, Elena'."  
"Why can't it be both? We can have fun but be committed as well. Why do we have to conform to the normalities of social convention? Why can't we just be us?"  
"Oh get over yourself - 'normalities of social convention' and tell me what the hell is your problem."  
I could feel tears creeping into my eyes as memories popped up in my head, memories of a similar conversation a long time ago only it was _I _who was desperate for the labels and _he _who did not. Words just came pouring out my mouth without a filter. "The problem, Elijah, is that people change their minds so quickly. Today you're telling me that you want a relationship but next week you could be saying this isn't what you want anymore."  
He stumbled over his words for a minute as he digested the meaning behind my sentence. "But you can't live your life not taking chances because you're worried about how they might turn out. You've got to take the good with the bad."  
"What if I'm okay with not taking chances? I've been hurt before – I can't go through that again."  
"Who hurt you bad enough to make you this scared?"  
I took a deep breath knowing this conversation was nowhere near over. "His name was Damon."

Stories of Damon unravelled slowly. It seemed every time Elijah and I were together, he had more questions to ask about him. I guess he was trying to work out how Damon affected us.

"Did you love him? Elijah asked me one day when we were driving. It was raining and we were on our way home from a cinema date, it had been a lovely evening but I could tell something was playing on his mind. Ever since I'd told him about Damon two weeks ago, Elijah had always looked like he wanted to say something but stopping himself at the last minute. I never pressed because, well, honestly, the questions he might have scared me.  
"I think I did" I whispered, and then quickly. "No, I know I did. I still think about him sometimes – think about how he's doing and where he's at. The way we ended was so sudden, you know? There was no real closure. Sometimes I get angry when I remember what he did to me and sometimes I'm thankful that he at least came into my life in the first place." I looked out the window and stared at the rain as it fell into sync with my tears. "It was the best thing I ever felt. I think that was love."  
"And how does that affect us?" I could see his face reflected in the window as he glanced over at me and a pit formed in the bottom of my stomach. I guess talking to your new boyfriend about how much you loved your ex-not-even-your-boyfriend is not a normal topic of conversation.  
I knew what Elijah was thinking – did I still love Damon, did I want to be with Damon, was our story over or just on pause and honestly, I couldn't answer him at that exact moment. I was too swamped in memories of Damon to think about the future right now.  
I gave him the only answer I could that wasn't a lie. "What's past is past."

Elijah gave me a lot to think about that day in the car, so much so I went home and really contemplated my relationship with him in contrast to my memory of Damon. I knew it wasn't fair to string Elijah along if there was something still there between Damon and I. The answer I came up with surprised me.

A couple of days later he proposed another question.  
"Why did you guys break up?"  
I laughed, it was painful. "If you asked him he'd say we were never together. We were young and immature and everything was so intense. For me it felt like he loved me when he couldn't have me and as soon as he had me he didn't want me anymore." I paused to look at him and gauge his reaction. He had a poker face. "Strange isn't it? How fast someone's feelings can change and there's nothing you can do to expect it – no warning signs or indicators that that person doesn't feel the same way they did yesterday. And then, what's worse is you just have to sit and accept that you're completely in love with someone who doesn't even give a shit whether you come or go and frankly they would rather if you didn't come at all. And that sucks."  
"And now? If he knocked at your door and told you he loved you and was sorry for everything he had done in the past, what would you do?"  
I turned to look at him because I'd been thinking this exact thing myself and I knew the answer. "I'd shut the door," I smiled. "Because I already have somebody I love and adore and who gives me everything I want and need right here."  
It was the first time any of us had ever said "I love you" and he might think it was too soon but for me, there was no other way to describe the way I felt about him.  
He pulled me closer to him and I knew from the look on his face that I'd made the right decision telling him. "Say it again," he mumbled. "Who do you have right here?"  
"Someone I _adore,_" I teased.  
"uh-hu," He was kissing my neck.  
"And who gives me everything I _want,"  
_"Mmm," He kept going.  
"And _need," _  
"What else?" he mumbled.  
"And someone I love."  
He stopped kissing me and looked up to meet my eyes, brown on brown boring into mine. "I love you too."

And that was that. Reciprocated love. Real love. Love.


End file.
